


God...er, Dog

by Mice5k



Category: Generation X (Comic), X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: First Class (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 16:15:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1864194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mice5k/pseuds/Mice5k
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bobby Drake's extended family, the Bass's, is explored when his cousin dies and he (with Jubilee) goes to Santa Monica, CA for the funeral. </p><p>The set up of the "Everyone Says I Love You" series featuring Bobby Drake, Hank McCoy, Jubilee and original characters Annie Peckenpaugh and the extended Bass family. Revised and edited from it's original release in 1999. 3D glassed not needed. I promise I didn't Lucas it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Past!Mice in 1999's Note:** I took Jubilee to the micro-brewery. She would not allow me to write her as "13 1/2", she complained that the only time she got to be older in a fan fic was if she was pursuing Logan in an adult fic or running the X-Men. She wanted a break and to just be a dumb, mature teen and not a goofy adolescent. I owe her at least that much ... Also, sorry about the serial format; I thought this was going to be a short story, but it evolved on me. Damn evolution, before long, I'll have an ape instead of a story...

** Future!Mice in 2014's Note:  ** Fifteen years later, seven more serials and five stand alones in the  _Everyone Says I Love You_ series, I don't have an ape, I have an overgrown orangutan. 

** ** Standard Vintage Mice Disclaimer** **

Mice is in no way associated with the Marvel Comics Group. She is merely trying to write a story and this is all she has to show for it. A noble effort. Though she would one day like to be paid for writing, please don't send her any money (send mail to urmonkeyifudo@yeahright.com on instructions to send her money). The characters of Bobby Drake and Jubilee, belong to the Marvel Comics Group. Holland, Jacob, Bert, Heathcliff, and Nan are of my own mind. Any archiving of this story that is unaware of her attention will be illy received (Read: Tikki Curse). If you e-mail her, explain your intentions to archive the story and address of your archive, she will be more than gracious and will probably do something nice for you, like bake you brownies, not to mention archiving the story. She just wants to know where she can drool over the sight of her name. If you want to e-mail her comments, do it at mice5k@hotmail.com. You'll also get some brownies out of the deal, but it's not really that great of a reward because she can't cook.

** Chapter 1: Pete Townsend's Only Top 10 American Hit **

**1999**

**-1- Flight 2553 from Boston to Los Angeles**

_Who will sa-ee-ave your soul, if you won't say hello...li, li, le li li..._

If there is any justice in the universe, it would kill me now.

What is it about airplane music? I mean, in the past hour, I've heard Kiki Dee's "I've Got the Music in Me" five times, not to mention this song to commit suicide to. And this is the only station that's even halfway decent. I'm not about to listen to country and if I wanted to hear classical, I would have stayed at the dorm, though the air traffic report is sounding more and more appetizing by the yodel...

I could have been at home right now; relaxing in my fuzzy slippers and blasting my Goo Goo Dolls CD to bother Paige Guthrie's studying habits and Paige Guthrie herself.

As if. Soon as Beast gave me the call that Bobby split Xaviers to go home, not in Long Island but to Santa Monica, inches (aka, mere miles) from my old stomping ground of Los Angeles, I was shoving clothes in the leather duffel bag I borrowed from Paige and telling Angelo that he was driving me to the airport. (Note to Me: Let Paige know I borrowed her leather duffel bag.)

That’s the official reason: Bobby Drake, my partner in crime, needs me...even though he did not let me know directly or at all.

Unofficially...?

**-2 - Santa Monica, CA**

Holland Suzanne Bass, the eldest and only granddaughter of Hannah “Nan” Bass, stood in the doorframe of her grandmother’s room. She was the only one there taking care of her and she felt her demands were reasonable. "Nan, I really wish you would be a bit more nice to me...I’m stretched thin with taking care of you and Gilberto." 

Nan Bass spat at her granddaughter. "When I get to watch some real television and not this A&E crap, we'll talk about my behavior." Nan folded her arms. "I just happen to mention that I like _Biography_ , and now A&E is the only station I'm allowed to watch.While Peter Graves isn't bad on the eyes, but Hal Sparks from _Queer as Folk_ is quite the looker, you know."

"Nan..."

"How am I supposed to get my jollies by looking at Jack Perkins all day?"

"Nan!"

"JACK. PERKINS, Jacqueline."

Holland felt her anger rise. "I'm Holland, not Jacqueline."

Nan looked darkly towards her granddaughter. "Are you talking back to me, Jacqueline?"

Holland made her hands into fists and dug her nails into her flesh as hard as she could to get out some of her frustration. "Just correcting you, Nan. No one is even named _Jacqueline_ in our family." Correcting you for the nine billionth time, that is, she added mentally.

"Yes there is, you have an aunt named Jacqueline.”

“My aunt’s name is Madeline. That’s your own child, are you senile?”

“Not on the Drake side, on....” Nan made a face and made a great production out of saying, “The Lubbock side.”

Holland could feel all the veins in her head throbbing as she began to move out of the room, both from the argument and from the mention of her mother’s family. "If that's all, Nan, I have to go pick up Gilberto."

Nan squinted her eyes at her granddaughter coldly. "You are dismissed."

Holland nodded her head and made her way to the hallway, and miraculously made it through without throwing a single vase or smashing a single picture frame. "What on earth possessed me to agree to take care of this woman..." She slumped herself into one of the hideously patterned wing back chairs in the house and looked around for her brother to provide relief before remembering that Heathcliff would not longer be there to make everything all right. Until her father arrived from Seattle, she would be alone with no support as she doubted any other of the family would come out. "I hate this house, I hate her, I hate this city, I hate this state, I hate this family, I-"

Holland's attention broke as she heard a knock from the screen door. 

She checked her hazel eyes out in a mirror hung over the entry table before opening the door (noting that it had been a while since she had plucked her eyebrows), and when she did, her jaw dropped when she saw who standing outside.

"It’s about time one of the Drakes came over here to show their respect, Bobby."

- **3- LAX, CA**

You know, I'll never understand why people think LAX is a nightmare. Been here several times, never had much of a problem. It's just like a ton of little airports in one great big one. Paige was really paranoid when I called to tell her about borrowing her duffel back, babbled on about how it might wind up in Bermuda or St. Petersburg. I keep telling her that lost luggage was not the urban legend it was made out to be in rural Kentuckylvania. Also, it’s okay to trust indoor plumbing.

After another lecture, Guther's went into me about following Bobby all the way out here. I thought that out of anybody, she'd understand the most, having a gigabyte of siblings and what not. She claims that family is blood and blood only. I argued back that it’s not blood but a sticky web of baby gravy. This embarrassed her because Paige is trying to convince us all that she is the ultimate prude. I'm her roomie. I know better. But that's another story that is for sale to the highest bidder.

Paige also tries to come off as some sort of know it al, saying that she understood my “complex paternal replacement” relationship with Wolverine.I don't even understand it or what the hell that all means, so how can a hick from the sticks who’s idea of being rich is to use Tupperware to store leftovers instead of old margarine tubs.

Paige also complains that I like the X-Men more than Generation X. And, if I may be blunt with myself, ABSOLUTELY. It's like everybody on this team hates each other or can just barely stand each other. We're more like acquaintances than actual friends, which is what I find essential in being a teammate. I mean, the X-Men took in Magneto and treated him friendlier than we treat each other! (Most of the times that they have taken in Magneto.)

So, I have been busting my hump to try and get our team to have the bond that X-Men do, and after all this time ... it just seems so fruitless. I’ve already broken down the tractor jockey known as Paige. Angelo is practically counting down to the day he's checking out. Jono is trying to get into the Guinness Book of World Records for "Most Consecutive Days Brooding" - a title that is held by Scott “Broody Underpants of the Week” Summers, so he has some mighty angsting to do yet. Monet is not even on the same planet we all live on most of the time and treats us as if she found us under her nail beds while getting a manicure. 

And Everett. I thought that Ev and I were going to stick like glue to each other, but whenever he gets interested in a girl, he just ditches me. Despite the fact that 1) I am a girl and 2) See number one.

Yeah, sure. We're going to be future X-Men, all right. The closest we'll come is Ev's Xavier-like head and Paige’s University of Phoenix Force.

** -4- Santa Monica, CA **

Holland resisted the urge to smack her cousin's smug face as their argument continued. "Not even here for five minutes and already you're insulting me - wait, what are you even doing here? Nan’s doing fine, I'm taking care of her-"

Bobby got into Holland’s face, not having done it since the last time they saw each other while he was studying at UCLA, heroing with the Champions."My cousin just passed away and you ask what I'm doing here? You know what, maybe I’m here to liberate Nan! You probably have her on some sort of Nazi-esque regime..."

"Oh, you would say that, you Catholic pig!"

"I'm not Catholic!" Or anything, Bobby added silently not wanting to offend his Jewish grandmother who might be able to hear him.

"Well, you're fascist father is, and if anybody is a Nazi in this family, it's him!"

Bobby remained serial killer calm for a few seconds as the words lingered in the air. Finally, he he chose his chilly words. "You have no right to judge the Drakes, Holland. You haven't even seen any of us in five years, and I would have been glad to never see you again for the rest of my life, but after Heathcliff..." Bobby trailed off and took a few moments to collect himself, not quite processing what had happened to his baby cousin. "And you know my mom has been so worried about Nan after she took that fall-"

Holland broke in, interrupting her cousin's emotional outpour. "Then why isn't Aunt Maddy here and you are?"

"Because MY mom is taking care of MY father. Where’s yours?”

Bobby and Holland continued to stare down at one another until Nan called from her room. "Jaqueline? Do I have a visitor?"

Holland forced a smile, while keeping a steady gaze on Bobby. "It's just the Drake boy, Nan."

"My Maddy's little boy?" Nan's voice broke.

"Well, unless there's another one I don't know about!"

"Well, why aren't you letting him come in to see me, or do you not want me to see any part of my family?"

Holland lowered her voice so that only Bobby could hear. "You are so lucky that I have to go pick up Gilberto. You know where Nan is." She began to turn to leave when she added, "And whatever you're thinking, don't!"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Holland placed her hands on her hips and huffed. "It means whatever sort of stunt or prank or blind date with Warren Worthington you're thinking of doing to me, forget it. I have enough stress in my life right now without adding you to it."

Bobby began to raise his hand to make a point when and Holland smacked it down. "Don't tell me you weren't thinking it. We grew up together, Bobby and the last time I saw you, while your friend Warren was throwing up in my lap and calling me Ethelinda, who is apparently the oldest and easiest socialite in New York." Holland left the sentence in the air and her eyes burning on his, even after she slammed the door and he heard her engine start up

Bobby took a few moments, to make sure she was gone before, "Damn, I'd be uptight too if I named my kid after the Frito Bandito."

**-4- Cab on the 405 N, Los Angeles, CA**

My relationship with Bobby is probably one of the most normal, for lack of a word that hasn’t been invented for “not weird”. In the mansion, most of my friendships were based on surrogate fathers and mothers, but Bobby is the only one who I feel like is just a friend. Not even Hank, who is more “Wacky Uncle” than “You know what this Slip n’ Slide needs?” Bobby is the only one who I can just hang out with and feel my own age. Our personalities just get each other. He understands what it's like to never be taken seriously. C'mon, with a multiple Ph. D. best friend, who's going to look at the frozen lollipop for counsel and guidance? (Me. That’s who.)

I remember when the Xavier 5 came to the mansion*; I pulled this nasty prank on Jean that I'm still not allowed to talk about, as per the arbitration, but after said prank, she first yelled at Bobby, and he kept denying and denying, and she kept accusing and accusing ... finally, she saw me snickering and looked at the two of us and said, "You two deserve each other!" This is also known as the day that rule 22b** was first conceived.

I guess everyone sees us as a pair of jokers and pranksters, and I'll admit, we do our fair share, and that's the only side people seem to want to see of Jubilation Lee and Robert L. Drake. And because of that, nobody else takes us seriously except each other.

Who needs blood when you have a bond like that?

**-5- Santa Monica, CA**

"Hey, Nan!" Bobby entered his grandmother’s bedroom with flair. The last time he saw her, she was getting Warren’s phone number and promising him “the night of his life”.

"Come here, Robert," Nan beckoned. He slowly made his way to her side, to which she kissed the top of his head. "What day is it?"

"Uhm, Thursday."

"Good. Turn the tv to channel forty four."

Bobby used the remote control and the Grand Ole Opry blared on the screen. Silence passed.

"How's my Maddy, Robert?"

"Mom's good ... taking care of Dad."

Silence.

"How's the school and Charles?"

“Everything’s really good right now. We branched out and have a new school for young mutants in Massachusetts. The Professor sent me here with some cheese and wine for you, reminding me to tell you thank you.”

"So why are we talking and listening to Shania Mandrell or whoever instead of eating exquisite cheeses and drinking the wine that my old friend sent you here with?"

Silence.

Bobby looked around nervously for an excuse. "I need to go to the bathroom first?"

"Well, why the hell are you telling me? Nature called, no need to broadcast it on the p.a. system. Go, Robert."

Bobby made his way out, and once in the safety of the bathroom muttered, "This has been the nicest visit to date..."

Bobby looked around the bathroom while relieving himself. The walls where covered with pictures of the dog from _Blues Clues_ and that dog seemed to be staring at him. "No, this doesn't feel perverted at all..." he remarked as casually as he could. He began to wash his hands with the official _Blues Clues_ soap and dried them on a towel which had a winking dog on it. "Kinky."

Bobby made his way to his bag and withdrew Xavier’s gifts for his grandmother. They had this tradition since he started at Xaviers. While his parents at times seemed to be mind wiped of the fact that he was a mutant and a superhero, this never happened to his Nan and this did not seem to phase Xavier at all. After the third exchange when the X-Men were still new Bobby asked his Nan why they did this (not just because he was embarrassed but because Warren wanted to know who in Bobby’s family had such great taste in wine and cheese, received Xavier’s selections of equally good wine and cheese, and why Warren never seemed to get amazing wine and cheese from either party. Bobby suspected this was why Warren gave his grandmother his private phone number all those years ago and was sad when he never received a call.) and was told, “When youdo a favor for someone, you never stop paying them back.”

When he asked Xavier, he was told that it kept Bobby from being expelled from the “pool spaghetti” incident. He remembered asking for a bit of the cheese that Xavier was nibbling on in his study and the next thing Bobby knew, sitting on the roof in his boxers.

Bobby never did get to taste that cheese.

The door opened and a flurry of steps followed. "Nan? I'm home!" 

Bobby winced at the return of his cousin Holland. _This is California!_ he began to rant silently to himself. _It takes an three different freeways and a good twenty minutes to get to your neighbor’s house, how can she be home already?_ Bobby shook his head and continued preparing the cheese plate the way his grandmother preferred when something hit his leg.

"Oof."

Bobby looked down and found a very small boy with huge brown eyes and a mess of a dark brown afro staring up at him. "I guess you're Gilberto."

The boy stared at him as if scanning him.

Bobby reached down to shake the boy’s hand, but wound up picking him up. "How old are you, Li’l Freddie "Boom Boom" Washington?"

No response except for the boys small arms wrapping themselves around his neck.

"He's tired. Not that he talks much, anyways." Bobby turned to see his cousin, who was carrying a bag that would match the bathroom.

"The kid is nuts about _Blues Clues_ , isn't he?"

Holland nodded. "He thinks Steve is his dad."

Bobby gently rocked Gilberto. "Where is his dad?"

Holland shrugged.

Bobby nodded uncomfortably.

"And please don't nickname my kid after a Sweat Hog." She looked at her watch. "Now, I have to go start dinner; Dad'll be here any minute."

Bobby froze in place. "Jacob’s going to be here?"

"Bobby, the man's son died, what did you think he was going to do?" Holland rolled her eyes as she got out chicken from the refrigerator and washed it.

"Does this mean your mom is coming?" 

Holland didn’t look at him. “Check hell. See if it froze over. Report back.”

"Jacqueline!” Nan called from her bedroom. “Where is my great-grandson!"

Holland gave a pleading look at Bobby. 

“Do we even have anyone in the family named _Jacqueline_?”

Holland fought back a smile. “Apparently, my mother would know.”

Bobby nodded, not wanting to engage further on the topic and sat the kid down. "At least I'm going back in with reinforcements." Bobby patted his extended cousin's head and grabbed the cheese, the wine, two glasses and a corkscrew. “Come on, Bert!” 

"It's Gilberto, Bobby!" Holland called as they left the kitchen.

“Two glasses? Someone’s cocky!” Holland heard her grandmother exclaim from the kitchen. “Looks like you have to share the glass with Robert, Bert!”

Holland laid the chicken on a plastic cutting board with a loud thud. "That's it, I'm poisoning the potatoes." Holland went back into the kitchen to wash the non-poisonous potatoes (for now) when she heard the door bell. "Coming, Dad!" Holland hurriedly threw off her apron and checked herself in the mirror next to the door before throwing it open and unlocked the screen door. Eyes: still hazel and less red from stress. "Daddy?"

"Wow. Californian slang has SO changed since I was last here. Uhm, hi, Mama?"

“Obviously, I thought you were someone else.” Holland peered at the petite pest. "Are you selling Girl Scout cookies or something?"

“Cookie season’s over, maybe eBay can help.” The girl moved to go inside again. "Is there a Bobby Drake here?"

Holland blocked her. "And what's it to you, Lolita?"

The girl made a face. "Don’t read me, Unibrow, unless you want to be read right back."

Holland touched the almost unibrow on her forehead protectively. "Fine. How do you know my cousin?"

"So, he is here - I was hoping to beat him, but this is just as good." The girl forced the screen door opened as Holland began to close the big door. Luckily, the girl's foot got caught between the big door and the doorway. "For the love of Mary, Tyler, and Moore-!"

Apparently, the term "luckily" was used a bit loosely.

From the bedroom in the back, Bobby’s ears pricked up. Gilberto took that moment to get a sip of wine and wrap his arms around Bobby’s neck.

"Robert, what is that noise?"

"Let me find out." Bobby began to rush out the door, but then turned back to set the clinging Gilberto on Nan's bed. "Bert." 

Entering the living room, Bobby swallowed the laughter building in his chest at the spectacle he saw in the living room. The youngest X-Men, Jubilee (sans neon yellow raincoat and surprisingly, everything else neon) battling his cousin for entrance into the house. "Oh if only the guys back home could see this, they would see that karma does exist..." he muttered before interrupting. "Let her in, Holland. She's a friend of mine and could probably blow a bigger hole than that doorway."

"Are you picking up girl's at the local high school's now, Bobby? That's a new low for you, congratulations." Holland, scowling, let in a very jubilant Jubilee in.

"Hey, Drake, did you hear that?!"

"FINALLY, J! After all these years of being persecuted into pre-pubescence! Cherish this moment!"

Bobby gave Jubilee a high five.

"Now, this brings me to my next question, Jubilee..."

"Who the hell names their kid Jubilee?" Holland broke in.

"I would SO not be talking, Tulips," Jubilee snapped.

Holland stormed out of the living room and began to ramble as she went back into the kitchen. "Oh, God, and here I was hoping there was just ONE Bobby Drake ... now I know that there was enough left that he used it to create an annoying Korean teenager..."

"I'm CHINESE, thank you! Please note the lack of plastic surgery on this face!" Jubilee shouted into the kitchen, then turned back to Bobby. "Does she have a mute button anywhere?"

Bobby shook his head. "Don't you think I would have used it already? Now, what are you doing here? You didn't sneak out to get away from finals, did you? I’ve told you - you don’t have a Hank there, you can’t do this the Bobby Drake way."

"No finals, but Hank did call me. Said he couldn't come here to be with you, and you know, _Should the role of Bobby Drake's Best Friend be left vacant, second-runner up shall get a ride on the next plane_."

"You mean Warren, Scott and Jean were busy?"

"Thank you, but I didn't ask for any ha and ha in my coffee."

"What are you, Will AND Grace?"

"Well, I always thought I was a gay man in a woman's body." Jubilee frowned. "Are you saying that you're not happy to see me?"

Bobby went out to hug her. "Of course not, Firecracker. I'm glad you're here. And not just to bug Holland." Bobby released her. "But, aren't you missing any important school stuff? I don't want you to fall behind on my account."

"Bobby, are you implying that we actually go to class once in a while?"

"Man...almost ten years out of high school and nothing’s changed."

Jubilee grinned. "Don't worry, there is not a thing I'm missing, except for Frost’s of Hollywood summer wardrobe."

"Well, then I might have to take your spot just to see that!"

Jubilee hit him playfully. "Perv."

“Pixie.” Bobby hit back. "So, not even Johnny Storm was available?"

Jubilee opened her mouth to retort when there was another knocking on the screen door.”

"Porkchop, Mom, I'm home!"

Bobby tensed.

Jubilee motioned to the door. "Who’s that bum?"

Holland ran into the living room and opened the door without checking the mirror. “Daddy?”

Bobby put his head on Jubilee’s shoulder, and whined, "Jacob."

\-----

*See _Pixie Perv Protector, Chapter 2_ for more on this universe’s first meeting of Bobby and Jubilee (story not posted on AO3 yet)

**See _Kitchen Rules for Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters_

 


	2. God...er, Dog: Bella Bella vs. Sehr Wunderbar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobby and Jubilee swing dance, Holland opens up to her father about her son, and Nan's past as a radio star is revealed.

**-1- Santa Monica, CA**

Holland settled in next to her father in the dining room with a cup of coffee for him as dinner was winding down. "How long are you here for, Dad?"

Jacob smiled at his daughter and took her hand to hold it. "As long as you need me, Pork Chop."

Holland grinned.

Bobby resisted an urge to throw up. _Pork Chop_ , he thought silently. _Who uses charred animal flesh as a pet name for their child?_

Jacob smiled pleasantly, providing an almost frightening contrast between the almost stunning beauty of his daughter with light, creamy skin and long, chocolate brown hair (unibrow to match) and his own alarming plainness of forgettable blue eyes and almost gone ash blond and grey hair, yellowed teeth and a frame that wasn't quite chubby, but wasn't quite gaunt.

Jubilee studied the this contrast and tried to find the slightest hint of Jacob Bass in his daughter and found none. So far, Jacob had been a pleasant and cordial figure in the house with intentions that were only genuine, but had a ghost of desperation hanging around him, haunting everyone for their acceptance.

As she began to imagine what Holland's mother was like, Bobby gently tapped her on the shoulder, taking her away from her thought process. "Jubilee, you barely ate anything at dinner, are you all right?"

Jubilee squirmed. "Yeah, I just wasn't very hungry."

Holland spoke up. "I'm sorry, Jujubee-"

"It's _Jubilee_ , Windmills."

"That's what I said." Holland smiled. "Anyways, I should have been more sensitive to your dietary needs."

Jubilee squinted. "Huh?

"Well, just saying that you're probably used to a more _fish and rice_ diet than _meat and potatoes_ type meal."

Jubilee rolled her eyes. "Next thing you know, she'll be trading in my fork for chopsticks..."

Holland smiled smugly. "How funny, I was just going to make that offer!"

"Good. I can use them to stick up your-" A timely hand covered the loud mouth.

"Uh, I don't think that'll be necessary, Holland," Bobby hurried in because someone was nipping at his hand. “You know, Jubilee did grow up in Los Angeles.”

Nobody cared.

There was silence.

Then a fork dropped.

Someone picked it up.

A _thank you_ was grunted.

A barely audible _welcome_ followed it.

Jacob cleared his throat to end the silence. "How are you feeling, Mom?"

"Fine, son," Nan got in before she belched. "I'm sorry, I must be a bit gassy. Chicken does that to me."

Holland clicked her heels together. "there has to be another place better than home ... there has to be-"

"Oh, my girl’s a fine cook, Mom! Just like her mother." Jacob kissed his daughter's head. "Remember your Aunt Hollis's cooking, Bobby?"

Bobby avoided the conversation.

"What in the hell are you talking about, Jacob?” Nan motioned to Jubilee who was seated across from her. "That woman’s favorite cook book was the Yellow Pages."

Jubilee stifled a giggle.

"Now daughter, Maddy, she can cook! Have you ever had her mashed potatoes, uh, what did you say your name was, young lady?"

"Jubilee."

"Right, Billie. Well, Maddy's potatoes taste like someone just plucked some angel, peeled it, mashed it up, and put it in a bowl." Nan belched again. “No exaggeration.”

Holland projected a grin through clenched teeth. "Well, I think that I ought to get Gilberto to bed ... he's had quite a busy day with his grandfather coming for a visit, meeting his cousin Bobby, and not to mention Michelle Kwan ... I'll help you get into bed soon, Nan-"

"Oh, don't worry, Jacqueline, Billie can do that for you."

"But-"

"Billie, would you mind?"

"Of course not, Mrs. Bass," Jubilee said cordially. "Go and take Bert to bed. I got this."

"His name is not Bert!"

Jubilee pointed a finger to her. "Look, Dutchess, some names need to be nicknamed. You **_cannot_** expect me to call him _Gilberto_ with a straight face."

"But it's his-"

Nan got up. "Coming, Billie?"

Jubilee grinned. "Coming, Mrs. Bass."

Jubilee followed Nan to the hall, but not before she belched at Holland.

Holland got up and began to clear the table. "Dad, do you see what I go through with this family?"

Jacob gave his daughter another hug. "Don't let her get to you, Pork Chop ... she does the same to all of us, doesn't she, Bobby?"

Bobby shrugged.

"Say, Pork Chop, I have an idea, why don't I help you put Gilberto to bed, okay?"

Holland nodded. "I'd like that very much, thank you Dad."

Jacob kissed the top of his daughter's head as they took Gilberto through the hall, leaving Bobby by himself in the parlor with an odd assortment of left over cups, saucers, and forks.

**-2-**

"Now, Pork Chop, tell me what's on your mind?"

Holland began to pull back the _Blues Clue's_ sheets and comforter back as her father helped Gilberto into his pajamas. "You know, people ask, "why me" every once in a while. I just don't understand why I have to do it every fifteen minutes. Taking care of Nan was never really an option for me; it was either I do it, or bounce over to another friend's crummy studio apartment, and I figure that Gilberto is a lot better off if he hears his mother and his not-so-great-grandmother squabble every now and then than listening to the couple upstairs fucking every three hours on what seems to be a trampoline."

Jacob laid his grandson in his bed and gently covered his ears with his hands. "What about Heathcliff, didn’t he offer to help?"

"Well, Heathcliff did offer to take me and Gilberto in after he heard of the problems me and Nan were having, but I didn't want to interfere with his life. He has -” Holland paused, remembering.“He had so much going for him, Dad, and I just didn't want to get in the way...I mean, what's a possible spot in a Gap ad compared to your older sister who got knocked and still can't get on her feet after almost five years?"

"You know he didn’t care about that."

Holland ignored her father, content in her own little world of frustration. "What really makes all of this intolerable to me is that my entire situation came out my vagina."

Jacob winced at the word and covered Gilberto's ears tighter.

"I know everyone in the family thinks I'm a slut, but before I got pregnant, I never slept with anyone, Dad...I mean, I know that I can barely hold my liquor - I can't even use Listerine anymore because of the buzz it gives me, but that night, I just slipped..."

"Why?"

"I...don't even remember. I remember being really upset and..." Holland let the thought trail off and focused her energy on her anger. "Some of my friends came up to me and began to tell me that it was "fate", a “miracle” - all that bullshit. I thought fate was supposed to be a force of good and get you out of hopeless situations. A miracle is supposed to be miraculous.

"You know...I hope they all have gonorrhea now, at the very least, pot smoking, crystal wearing, new age assholes."

Holland looked at her father, half pouting, half growling. “Why couldn’t you help me?”

Jacob didn’t knowing exactly what to give her except for that familiar look that every woman of the Bass family had received from him on many occasion; confused shame.

**-3-**

"Billie, I have to thank you for this!"

"Oh, thank me nothing! It's my pleasure."

"I ... I just never knew such a show existed!"

"Well, I know it's not the greatest show, but Diego is enough to make me want to learn Spanish, fake accent or not!"

Nan grunted. "Jacqueline never lets me watch shows like these."

Jubilee sat next to Nan on her bed. "Hey, Mrs. Bass, why do you call her Jacqueline?"

Nan looked around. "Well, Billie, I'll tell you a secret that I'm sure you'll believe, but you have to promise never to tell anyone..."

Jubilee leaned in. "I promise."

"All right then." Nan drew closer to Jubilee. "Her name is stupid."

"Duh."

Nan relaxed. "The girl is named after a country that doesn't even have that name anymore! If that's not a sign that it's a stupid name..."

Jubilee nodded. "So, you just gave her a new name?"

Nan nodded back. "I knew a Jacqueline. She was exceptional."

Jubilee grinned. "So, what do you call Gilberto?"

"Albert, though I do like the name Bert ... that's what Robert has been calling him."

"And you call me Billie, because...?" Nan smiled.

"To be frank, unless your parents spent time with the Jim Baker family back in the seventies, nobody should have the name ‘Jubilee'."

"Actually, it's Jubilation. My last name is Lee ... it's kind of a nickname."

Nan sniffed. 

Jubilee raised her arms in defense. "Hey, I'm not saying that the name _isn't_ stupid ... I like that it’s unique, though."

Nan reached over and took Jubilee's hand. "Then think of Billie as another nick name." She raised a hand. "Wait, did you hear that, Billie?"

**-4-**

Jubilee raced into the parlor where she saw Bobby nursing his hand, and surrounded by broken glass. "Are you...?"

Bobby nodded. "I'm fine, Jubilee. Just had a small accident, is all."

Jubilee kneeled down and began to help him pick up the pieces of china.

"Bobby, are you bleeding?!"

"Jubilee, I’ve had holes in my chest, this is just a scratch, don't worry about it, I can take care of it, I just need to-"

"Stop showing off. Go to the bathroom and put whatever the heck you put on something like that. I'll pick up the pieces, okay? Don't worry about it."

Bobby nodded weakly and made his way to the bathroom.

"I thought I heard a crash - is everything all right, Jubilee?"

"Yeah, everything is fine, Mr. Bass. Bobby just had an accident with the dishes, is all."

Jacob went down to help her. "Careful you don't slice your hands, Jubilee."

Holland stormed into the room, hands shaking and nostrils flaring. "What in the hell happened? I thought you were with Nan! Who did this?"

"Easy, Pork Chop ... Bobby was clearing the dishes and some accidentally broke-"

"Some? That's practically all the dishes we used! What was he doing, carrying them to the kitchen on his head like an Indian peasant girl?"

"Accidents do happen, Pork-"

"And why isn't he cleaning this mess up? Why is he having you two do it? Are you his geisha?"

Jacob turned to Jubilee. Jubilee calmed herself down before answering. "Bobby cut up his hands pretty bad trying to pick the pieces up. I sent him to the bathroom."

"Bobby!" Holland turned and made her way into the bathroom.

"What in the hell is her problem?!"

"Please don't judge her too harshly, Jubilee-"

Jubilee jumped. "Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Bass! I forgot that you were in here, otherwise I wouldn't have - I mean, geez, I'm trying not to be too incredibly rude, because I don't even know you people, just Bobby, and already me and his cousin are going at it, and I tried, I really, really tried not to be rude, but, God, she's making is SO hard for me not to, and now, I go ahead and do it to another Drake-"

"Bass."

"Right, Bass, and, oh ... I'm sorry! I'm not good at this sort of thing..."

Jacob smiled. "It's all right, Jubilee. I know my daughter can be ... a handful at times. She's just been going through some hard times, is all."

"You mean she's not like this all the time?"

"I didn't say that," Jacob winked. "There was a brief time when she and Bobby got along ... when we all lived on Long Island. After we moved to Seattle, Holland and her brother Heathcliff went to spend a week at my sister's - Bobby's mother's - house, and from the way I hear it, Bobby was sent to his other uncle’s house for the rest of the week after the two got into a fist fight."

"And after that...?"

"Our families got together here and there ... it was mostly uncomfortable for all of us, so the visits pretty much dwindled. Last time I saw my sister was about ... six years ago. I haven't seen Bobby in ages. Kids moved to Los Angeles when they got out of high school. Everyone’s spread out."

Jubilee smiled and nodded. "So...want to give me any dirt on Bobby as a youngster?"

It was Jacob's turn to smile. "Bobby was very imaginative and liked to tell stories. He, Heathcliff, and Holland would put on these little shows for me, Hollis, Maddy and her William. Heathcliff was a natural ... did you know he was an actor?"

Jubilee shook her head.

"And Holland and Bobby would just be a couple of hams, up there...actually getting along. Bobby would be the hero, Holland would be the evil witch, and Heathcliff would be the damsel in distress."

Jubilee nodded, math slowly working in her mind. "Right on."

"Yes, my son was gay, Jubilee." Jacob answered. 

Jubilee was about to ask if he was reading her mind while taking a handful of glass to the trash can when it cut her. "AH!" Jubilee dropped the glass into the trash and began to suck on her finger.

"Let me have a look at that, Jubilee ... I may be no doctor, but after two precocious kids and an accident prone nephew..." Jubilee gave him her hand.

"You have a small piece of glass right there ... Will you let me get it out for you?"

Jubilee opened her mouth to say something, when Bobby entered. "I can get it for her. I think Holland wants to see you."

Jacob nodded and headed out. "Thank you, Bobby."

Bobby shrugged and took Jubilee's hand. "Looks like you did a repeat performance of what I did!" He led her to the bathroom and got out the tweezers.

"How is your hand, Bobby?"

Bobby held it up his bandaged hand before. "You know, I have faced off Magneto before all you kids were doing it and nobody made this big a deal out it.” Bobby sterilized the tweezers and found the small bit of glass that was in her finger.“I was just being careless ... there, it's out."

"Hey, Bobby?"

"Yeah, Jube?"

Jubilee began to suck her finger as Bobby prepared a bandage for her. "How did your cousin die? Was he HIV or something?"

Bobby snapped. "Just because he was young and gay, don’t assume it’s AIDS! You know plenty of mutants died young not from the Legacy Virus but because life sucks!"

"Geez, Bobby, I just asked a question!"

"No, you-" Bobby let out a low groan and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Jubilee ... I shouldn't be fighting you." He put the bandage on her finger and kissed it. "You are going to be the only thing that keeps me in check, you know that?" He held the tip of her finger, applying light pressure

"Oh, absolutely, what with the strong friendship Hollandaise Sauce and I are forming - we have a date with a guitar and Carole King songbook later, want to come?”

Bobby shook his head. "Well, my grandmother is crazy about you. Trust me."

Jubilee shrugged. "She's a neat lady."

"She re-named you, Jubilee. That's nothing to shrug off."

"She re-names everybody with a shitty name, in case you haven’t noticed, Robert." Jubilee made a face. “What kind of name is that anyway? Is that a family name? Even “Bobby” is boring. Why don’t you go by “Bert”?” 

Bobby said nothing.

“And I think you can let go of my finger tip there. You know, I’m not only a super-hero but once surprised Logan taking a shit in Genosha and let me tell you, Hank didn’t even kiss my boo-boo.”

"She re-named you after her character on her radio show." Bobby released her finger. “ _Saltzmen Pickles Presents, Science and Sorcery._ She says it was the _Bewitched_ of her day with a young witch marrying a young scientist, competing to see which was superior.”

Jubilee’s eyes widened. “Your grandmother was Samantha Stevens?”

“Billie Bell. She said it was in her contract that whenever Billie said something really stupid that she didn’t agreeshe’d get to sing and bring the house down. Come on.” Bobby led her to a den area where a radio was. He pulled out a cassette tape and fast-forwarded through the following phrases before getting to where he needed:

_Science? But that’s for squares!_

_A witch’s place is in the kitchen, not the laboratory!_

_But I can’t go on an adventure today - I’m making pie!_

“Ah, here we are...”

_And now, Saltzmen Pickles presents one of the stars from Science and Sorcery...Hannah Hart singing “Not Today” by Ian MacCroon!_

An orchestra started off a slow number. A young and low female voice began a slow, croonfilled narration.

_My mother, my father, and my brother told me_

_I’m not old enough to go out and play_

_But golly, miss dolly,_

_If you’d seen this boy Ollie with the eight inch trolley_

_You’d have enough sense to say..._

“Eight inch...is she referring to Ollie’s--”

Bobby nodded and motioned for her to be quiet. The orchestra began to swing and the voice began to growl.

_Not today! I ain’t gonna listen to you_

_Not today! I ain’t gotta care for you_

_I’m savin’ all my lovin’ for a six foot two stud muffin_

_So maybe I’ll listen tomorrow, but not today!_

“Some say that was the first time the phrase _stud muffin_ appeared on the radio.”

Jubilee’s mouth opened. “And that’s your grandmother who the Knickerkicker is keeping hostage?”

Bobby took her hand. “Yep. You know how to swing?”

“Sort of. You?”

“Yep.” Bobby began to go over the swing basic.

_They say children should be seen and not heard_

_Well, I’ll be just as quiet as an early bird_

_Just me and my friend Ollie -_

_Chugging along on that trolley!_

“There is no way this made it to air!”

“It was during the war, it was a different time.” They completed the angel drop kiss. “That was good, you wanna try a lift?”

“Can you do that?” 

Bobby lifted her small frame up easily. “Kick your legs back.”

Jubilee complied. “How are you doing this when your hand just got shredded?

“Kick’em side to side.” Bobby began to grin. “I iced my hand as a barrier underneath the bandage.” He set her down and they went back to the swing basic. “You were a gymnast, right?”

“Yep. My dad even got me a Russian trainer. I knew Keri Strug before she got her period. Where did you learn to dance?”

“Took lessons as a kid. Plus, with this woman as your grandmother, wouldn’t you know how to?”

“Point. Can we do a Waterfall?”

“Can we!”

_So from New York to California_

_Let me inform ya_

_I’ll listen to you Saturday, Sunday, Monday through Friday_

_But! Not today!_

 


	3. Chapter 3: What the President, Rod Stewart, and Everyone Else Here Needs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobby Drake ruminates over his name, Jubilee forms a crush on Steve from Blues Clues, Hank McCoy discovers soap operas.

**-1- Guest Bedroom, Santa Monica, CA**

Bobby Drake casually woke himself up at the ten o'clock hour. He turned his lazy carcass over to put on a pair of pants and found Bert standing on them and staring at him, resembling a Precious Moments figurine gone horribly adorable.

"Hey, Bert." Bobby nonchalantly ran his finger's through the young boy's afro. "I pity the foo' who mess widjou."

A voice cleared in the hallway. "Hey, Bobby, I got news for you ... you're white."

Bobby went to clear the sleep out of his eyes. "It looks like Holland Bass, but she's smiling, cordial, and almost witty ... not as scary as I thought it would be."

Holland entered Bobby's room, picking up her son with the utmost motherly affection while maintaining a most sinister grin. "It's still early yet." Holland began to smooth over Bert's hair. "And, you have a message."

**-2- Kitchen, Santa Monica, CA**

“Shout at him again, Annie,” Bobby directed from the phone in his grandmother’s kitchen. “If Hank’s in the lab, it’s going to take more than just that little bleat to have him hear you.

 “He ain’t in the lab. We’re taking a break in the rec room.” Annie Peckenpaugh took a deep breath and let loose again.

"HANK!"

"Judas Priest, Annie, I think they heard you in Brentwood through the phone!”

“That’s what you get for callin’ my hollerin’ a ‘bleat’.” Bobby heard a hand go over the receiver."Hank, Bobby's swearing like a sissy, hurry!"

“I’ll have you know that there are children younger than five here which is why I’m watching my language. “Bobby rolled his eyes. "Now, talk to me, Annie. What's going on around there?"

"Oh, same old, same old. Or at least I think, I've been too busy reading ... I never get out. You think if I was going to be a mutant, I could get a cool, all encompassing power, but no! I wind up making the Xavier Wall of Shame for the Not-So Gifted Youngsters."

Bobby chuckled. "Hey, I worked for, like, minutes on that certificate for you!"

"Yeah, I appreciate you using the picture of me wearing the Christmas angel on top of my head at New Year's. That was a drunken bet bet between me and Warren and was not to be documented in any way!" A sigh. "Well, mine isn't as bad as this Doug Ramsey guy's picture - wait, here's Hank."

Bobby heard a rustle of something, then an exchange on the other end.

"Have you forgotten _Passions_ is on?"

"I'm not the one who called Bobby before _Passions_ came on. Did something happen?"

"Ethan kissed Theresa."

"WHAT?!"

Bobby cleared his throat. "Can we get back to me?" He heard more phone fumbling.

“Please, like they would show that before sweeps. Now, go back to the rec room and if Sheridan comes back on, you hit record. Otherwise, I’ll make you read _Madame Bovary_ tonight.”

“You don’t have to worry, Hank.”

“I’m serious, Annie. I’ll make you and in it’s original French, too!” Bobby could hear Hank’s hand slide off the receiver. “Bobby! How is the West Coast?”

“Fine...Hank, are you watching soap operas with Annie?"

"...yes..."

"Hank, you detest soaps."

"That wily Wyoming woman got to me, Bobby. I don't know how, but somewhere between studying the astrophysics of the Sumerians and the ancient architecture of Mumbai, Annie has managed to hook me on all sorts of, for lack of a better word, _crap_."

Bobby put his hand over the receiver and looked to a half asleep Jubilee making her way to the kitchen. "Hey, Jubilee, get this, Hank said _crap_."

Jubilee stopped in her tracks and looked at him. "Is the Dark Beast back?"

"I heard that. Tell Miss Lee that-"

"HANK!" Annie bellowed.

"Hold on, Robert." Hank covered his end of the receiver. "WHAT?!"

"LUIS AND SHERIDAN ARE ON! AND SOMEONE TOOK THE VCR!"

“Just a minute, Annie!”

"THEY ARE IN TOWELS TOGETHER!"

Bobby shifted his weight and leaned against the pantry door. "Really, Hank? After all the crap you’ve given me about my love for _Riptide_?"

Hank grunted. "If you ever did see Miss Sheridan Crane in a sweater...a detective series about a crime solving boat don’t compare.”

“It wasn’t a crime solving boat, Hank - it just happened on a boat with a robot.”

“I need to make this fast, Robert. How are things faring?”

"Faring fairly well." Bobby turned to the living room to find Holland shaking in anger and trying admirably to keep herself in check.

"All right, who put the plush Blue with a butcher knife in my bed with the note?"

Jubilee looked over to Nan and the two shared a secret high five.

"Things are faring just fine."

**-3- In the Shower, Santa Monica, CA**

I know everyone says this about their family, but mine are completely insane. I mean, first you have the Drakes, who are so conservative that if you even so much as sneeze, they will hire a lawyer and make sure no one else will ever know that one of there own ever did anything in this world.

One of the many difference between the Drakes and Basses, is that the Drakes are Catholics and the Basses Jewish. Another are the names they give their kids. The Drake's have reasonable names, and no more than one nickname. My father is William or Willie. Nobody calls him Will. I'm Robert or Bobby. My other cousins, it’s Mary or Mare. Joel or...Joel. 

However, the Basses...first, their names try too hard. I'm sorry, but I can't believe Uncle Jacob and Aunt Hollis named their only son Heathcliff. Incredibly lame. And nick names? Holland has a million. Holl, Holly, Hollo, Ho Ho... I think I'm the only one who actually calls her Holland.

Ridiculous, isn't it? Even my mother was subject to it. I don't know of too many, but I saw several signatures in my Mom's yearbook saying, "To Mad Dog..."

Don't get me started with Nan. Real name, Dotia Marinski. Changed her name when she got to the states to Dorothy Marin and then started using the stage name Hannah Hart. She kept the name when she married my grandfather, Seth Bass, known theatrically as Ian McCroon. He wrote most of the songs she sang on _Science and Sorcery_. 

I’m Robert or Bobby. Or Iceman, but that shouldn't count. I say, if the name is used when your primarily in spandex, it doesn't count.

Actually, to tell the truth, truth...I think that name is kind of plain. I mean, my mind wonders all over the place when I hear _Iceman_. Like...I remember once, we were fighting Magneto back when it was just me, Hank, Scott, Jeannie and Warren. I had caught him by surprise with an ice attack, and he said, "Who was that?"

And I, obviously not thinking, said, "The Muffin Man!"

I wish I had gotten a better code name. My original choice for a code name, again not thinking about it when I blurted it out, was Snowballs.

Five equally horrible names later, never to be repeated, the Professor had had enough and told me it my code name was Iceman, end of story.

I guess I get my fair share of nicknames from my codename...most settle on Frosty. Jubilee’s the one who can bang out original after original with no breath. My favorite of them to date has been, _A Play by Eugene O’Neil_.

Maybe I should have had Uncle Jacob and Aunt Hollis give me my code name.

**-5- Living Room, Santa Monica, CA**

"We just got a letter! We just got a letter! We just got a letter! Wonder who it's from?"

Bobby strolled into the living room, fresh from the shower, and saw an absolutely enthralled Bert dancing along with an image of Steve and the dog on the television and barely passing for alive

Jubilee. "Come on, J, I'll take you to Promenade-"

"Ssh."

"We can eat, go to the beach, shop-"

"SSH!"

Bobby did a double take. "Jubilee?"

"Dude, Bobby ... be quiet."

Bobby could hear the wheels turning in his head. _She refused shopping. Great. I'm going to get therapy bills saying how my family has retarded her mind._

Jubilee's head snapped back to Bobby as a few small children were now present on the screen. "You were saying, Bobby?"

"Jubilee, wild guess here, but do you like this show?"

" _Blues Clues_? Oh, my God, yes! I've never been out of class to be able to watch it, but, wow! It's really a good show!"

"Huh?"

Jubilee rolled her eyes. "Okay, got me. This Steve guy is really hot."

"The dork in the rugby shirt?" 

Jubilee smiled dreamily. "Yeah. Ain't he a doll?"

"He’s short.”

“So are you.”

“He’s a terrible dancer.”

“Not all of us grew up near an Arthur Murray Academy, Frosty Feet.”

“His nose...”

“It’s adorable!”

"It's huge!" 

"I know!" Jubilee batted her eyes shyly. "I like big noses."

Bobby crossed his arms wisely. "Paige didn't tell you that old wives tale about how you can measure a guy by measuring 'from the tip of the hairline to the tip of the nose', did she?"

"'That's how big it grows'? That one?"

Bobby nodded. "I **_assure_** you that it isn't true."

Jubilee shook her head. "I know that, Perv, I’m not a kid - oh, he's on again!" Jubilee's attention snapped back to the television.

**-6- Living Room, Santa Monica, CA**

We all used to live in the same neighborhood, and I'd play with Cliff, Holland's brother. It was like I had the little brother I had always wanted and the older sister ... well, I had the little brother I had always wanted. That lasted until I was six; they up and moved to Seattle when I was six. I don't think I remember why.

Nan and Poppa moved to Santa Monica while I was in junior high - basically when I stopped going to Hebrew school.

Poppa had a heart attack and died a month after I began college. And later, I came down to Los Angeles and met up with Warren and some other people and did the super-hero thing again, but italso enabled me to be close to Nan. I promised my mom I'd look after her, as well as catching up with Heathcliff and barely seeing Holland.

See, you will notice a pattern here. I go to visit Nan in my mother's stead. Always. This is because their relationship depends on the following: not seeing each other, talking to each other minimally on the phone, always saying how they miss the other, and then bitch about each other when the other is out of earshot.

I am all for this. When the Drakes fight, it's a good, low volume verbal thing. When the Basses fight, it's all or nothing. Everything comes out. Old grudges that should have been forgotten, drudged up again, disapproval of the other's taste in decorating (especially hurtful, believe it or not), and when it gets really bad ... the nudity happens.

This has only happened once, but it was horrible. Nan and Poppa were visiting us from California and Nan and Mom got into an argument in no seconds flat. Then, Nan got so upset and began to shout, "What do you want from me? The clothes off my back? Here, take them!" Then Nan just...took off her dress, revealing what gravity does to women as they get older.

Also, that my grandmother didn’t need a bladder pad and had no use for underwear.

That image did come in handy years later, working around women who wear spandex or otherwise very little else.

**-7- Kitchen, Santa Monica, CA**

The phone rang again and Holland raced to answer it. "Bass residence."

"Jubilee..." Bobby began in a sing song voice. "If you leave to go out with me, I'll let you look at shoes ... I'll even buy you a pair...!"

Jubilee whipped her head around. "Even if it's at Nordstrom?"

Bobby nodded. "Even if."

"Cool. I wasn't even watching tv anyways."

Bobby gave her a dark look. "I'm changing that to I'll buy you a pair of shoes at the bargain bin at a DSW-" Bobby paused, noticing that his cousin had stopped talking. He turned and saw her sobbing on the floor, phone lying next to her. "Holland, what's wrong? What happened?"

"Pork Chop?" Jacob Bass entered the kitchen to comfort his daughter, who just pointed to the phone. Jacob picked it up. "Hello?"

Bobby went down to help Holland up. "Holland, who was it?"

“Mom.” Holland looked at him and whispered, "It was mom."

Bobby opened his mouth to speak, but shake his head for a while instead, hoping the appropriate word would fall out of his mind and into his mouth. "Shit."

Jubilee looked at a suddenly fragile Jacob. “I...need to use the bathroom.” 

“Is he going to be okay?”

“He’s just...throwing up. That’s what Jacob does when he gets an anxiety attack.” Bobby hung up the phone.

"So, what's the big deal?” Jubilee asked as Bobby brought Holland back up on her legs. “So your mom was little late getting here-"

“No one’s seen Hollis in eighteen years, Jubilee.” Bobby held Holland who began to sob in Bobby’s armpit. “And I don’t think anybody wanted to, either.”

 

 


End file.
